In vino veritas
by Rose de Sharon
Summary: Post AWE: Jack has left to search for the Fountain of Youth. But he doesn't feel very prideful about his past actions towards the Flying Dutchman's new captain.
1. Sail away!

**IN VINO VERITAS**

By Rose de Sharon

**Author's notes:**

- English isn't my native language and I don't have a beta-reader, all mistakes are mine.

- Post-AWE: Jack has left to search for the Fountain of Youth.

- "_In vino veritas"_ is a Latin proverb meaning _"Truth is found in wine_": a man who wouldn't say the truth while sober, loosen up his tongue when drunk.

- "_A pirate's life for m__e_", lyrics by X Atencio, music by George Bruns.

- To all Sparrow-fans: our favorite pirate captain is drunk and a bit "out of character". But I promise he'll be unharmed and back to his true self at the end! ;-)

**Feedback:** flames will be used as combustible. It is already getting cold here in Canada!

This story is dedicated to Smithy!

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**Chapter 1**

In the immensity of the ocean, a small dinghy was sailing on the water in the direction of the sun, which was setting at the horizon of the cloudless Caribbean sky in a glorious display of gold and crimson colors. The evening breeze was gently filling the single sail of the dinghy, pushing it forward west. The sole occupant of the tiny boat, Captain Jack Sparrow, was heading for a treasure worthy of his attention: the Fountain of Youth.

Jack Sparrow was acknowledged to be a picturesque character with a reputation of legendary bravery, charmed luck and sharp wits. But right now, this Captain wasn't a happy sailor.

Truth to be told, he hadn't been happy these past weeks.

"Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me," sang Jack with a quiet tone before taking a long gulp from his rum bottle. "We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot, drink up me hearties, yo ho. We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot, drink up me hearties, yo ho…"

Oh sure, Captain Sparrow had escaped the Crown's wrath (again) and fooled Hector Barbossa (_encore_); he was heading for a treasure beyond the imagination (_de_ _novo_) and his ship was loaded with rum (_otra_ _vez_). But that was an overly-embellished view of his current situation.

Because Captain Jack Sparrow was commanding the tiniest dinghy of the Caribbean after Barbossa and his men had stolen his beloved ship, _The Black Pearl_, away from him for the second time. Jack knew for a fact that Barbossa couldn't be trusted – as if that resurrected sea-slug would ever learn the virtues of loyalty! – but being betrayed by his own men _twice_ had been a bitter blow. The only crewmember who had remained loyal to Jack had been his First Mate, Joshamee Gibbs, but thanks to his drunkenness Barbossa had been able to steal The Black Pearl at Tortuga!

Because Captain Jack Sparrow had indeed in his possession the precious navigational charts previously owned by Chinese pirate lord Sao Feng, pinched from Barbossa as a precaution; no one could be cautious enough with that snake around. Those charts could help Jack to achieve his dream: becoming immortal. But where was the fun in treasure-hunting without anybody trustworthy around to share the adventure?

Because Captain Jack Sparrow was alone this time: even Gibbs had given up on him, preferring the company of Gisele and Scarlett in Tortuga to his. And who could blame Gibbs? These girls were a far better bet for the future than a pirate captain without a ship and a crew!

Because Captain Jack Sparrow's rum supplies were getting low… since he had been heavily drinking for hours now.

"We extort, we pilfer, we filch and sack, drink up me hearties, yo ho. Maraud and embezzle and even high-jack, drink up me hearties, yo ho!"

This was the song he always sang when getting drunk, mostly because it was easy to remember and it always pleased the audience. But this time, his drinking companions were very sparse: a few flying fishes, sliding through the waves too quickly to even notice the presence of the human being!

"We kindle and char, inflame and ignite, drink up me hearties, yo-ho," mumbled Jack in a mouthful of rum. "We burn up the city, we're really a fright, drink up me hearties, yo ho!"

The pirate captain sighed, and wished for the hundredth time he was back at the Faithful Bride's tavern in Tortuga, drinking along with Gibbs and his crewmembers while _The Black_ _Pearl_ was patiently waiting at the harbor for their return, her bilges full of supplies and her sails ready for immediate departure.

"We're rascals, scoundrels, villains and knaves, drink up me hearties yo ho, we're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs, drink up me hearties yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!"

Darn, nothing was more depressing than drinking alone aboard a dinghy!

"We're beggars and blighters and ne'er do-well cads, drink up me hearties yo ho. Aye, but we're loved by our mommies and dads, drink up me hearties yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me," finished the lonely man.

The Faithful Bride, that song… Really, he should stop mulling over this stuff. It reminded him too much of Elizabeth Swann, a Faithful Bride if he had ever met one; and did she ever sang that song over and over!

And whenever Elizabeth was mentioned, Will wasn't far away.

Another swing of rum, but it wasn't enough to erase the bitter taste in his mouth.

William Turner Junior, the son of "Bootstrap" Bill, Jack's old shipmate and friend. Will Turner, the boy hopelessly in love with Elizabeth Swann, the Port Royal governor's daughter and yet who had risked everything to free his father from slavery on Davy Jones' ghost ship the _Flying Dutchman_.

Will Turner, noble and heroic, master swordsman… _"And his voice is a baritone's, not a soprano's_!" mentally corrected Jack.

The pirate captain shook his head, making his numerous dreadlocks, braids and trinkets entangled in his long hair fly in every direction. For the life of him, he'd never understand why Will had been so pig-headed about freeing his twice-cursed father from Davy Jones. "Bootstrap" Bill had been a mess the last time Jack had saw him: a wrenched man covered with shells, the living image of a corpse who had stayed on the ocean's floor for too long. The elder Turner hadn't had a snowball's chance in Hell to be freed from his serving oath towards the _Flying Dutchman_ and yet, Will had been resolute to rescue him.

And it had almost cost him his life.

Jack shuddered, and then he took a long swing from a new rum bottle. He didn't want to remember the maelstrom battle yet; there wasn't enough alcohol in him!

"Aw, Will, why did you want to save your old man that much?" grumbled Jack.

Will, that courageous kid... Jack would never forget the day he had faced the hangman's noose at Port Royal. For all his bravado, Jack had thought he was living his last moments while the town clerk was reading out loud his long list of crimes to the crowd – until two sparks of hope had shone for him: one took the shape of Cotton's parrot, relieving itself on that pair of blockheaded Royal Marines; the other one was Will, dressed in an elegant costume and dashing through the crowd of onlookers, resolute to free the pirate captain at all costs. And he had succeeded!

But Jack hadn't been exactly grateful for that heroic feat: one year after his narrow escape from the executioner's hands, he had tried to sell Will's soul as payment for the debt he owned to Davy Jones, that octopus-faced monster. Jones' leviathan, the Kraken, was at Jack's heels to drag the _Black Pearl_ into the depths of the ocean, and its Captain was desperately looking for an escape from this terrible doom.

Jack Sparrow's face turned red, and for once he was glad to be alone. No one had to witness how ashamed he was for his past actions towards Will.

"Face it, Jacky ol' boy," muttered the pirate captain. "Whenever Will was concerned, you acted like a double-crosser."

Maybe Davy Jones (may he rot in Hell) had been right to call him a poor captain after Jack had tried to smart-talk him about him falling victim of a mutiny that had prevented him to command the _Black Pearl _for 11 years. Jones hadn't been interested in Jack's explanations about his captaincy displeasing his traitorous First Mate Barbossa; he had given Jack three days to find 99 more souls to erase the debt he owned him, keeping Will as first payment.

"_I wonder, Sparrow," _had then asked the hideously ugly Jones,_ "Can you live with it? You can condemn an innocent man – a friend – to a lifetime of servitude, in your name, while you roam free on the ocean?"_

"_Yep, I'm good with it!" _had answered Jack in a nonchalant tone.

Jack raised the new bottle of rum to his lips and swung it to take a very long gulp, in a try to erase this **very** bad souvenir from his memory, but only a few drops of alcohol fell on his tongue. The bottle was already empty!

"Why is the rum always gone?" asked Jack before tossing the flagon overboard. It hit the salty water with a resounding splash before disappearing forever in the ocean.

Captain Jack Sparrow missed not having his usual audience of gaping shipmates or enemies, all of them falling under the spell of his silver-tongue. Even he was constantly amazed by his own quick thinking and over the years, he had succumbed to his own charm. But now, solitude was his imposed companion and, just like the time he was tailed by the Kraken, Jack was unable to talk his way out of this situation. Even aboard a cockleshell of a boat and out in the open waters, Jack was feeling more trapped than inside a prison cell.

"_Can you live with it?"_ had asked Jones. Captain Teague, Jack's supposed sire, had told him during their last meeting that immortality wasn't only about living forever. The real question was, can a man live forever with himself?

Well, at the present time, Captain Jack Sparrow was having a hard time living with himself!

The pirate captain sighed heavily: he was getting drunk and he knew it. Every sailor knew that it wasn't prudent to sail alone in an intoxicated state, but Jack Sparrow couldn't care less. Being inebriated was becoming a routine these days, due to many bad memories.

Jack was remorseful about Will, not only about how he had repaid the life-debt he owned the kid by selling him to Jones; but Will had also braved multiple dangers to rescue him from the Locker, including a perilous detour via Singapore, and still Jack had turned a deaf ear to the youngster's pleadings for help to save his father… while the immortality idea was growing in the pirate captain's mind.

Well, Will _did_ betray Jack with Sao Feng to gain command of the _Black Pearl_. However, Will had wanted the _Peal_ simply because it was the only ship of the Seven Seas fast enough to outrun the _Flying Dutchman: _an important leverage for his plan to rescue Bootstrap Bill from a terrible fate!

"Damn it," grumbled Jack. "Even when the kid tried to double-cross me, it was for a noble cause!

Jack and Will had then concluded another uneasy alliance: the young man had agreed to help the cunning pirate to become the new Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, since getting Davy Jones out of the picture was the key to Bill Turner's freedom and Jack Sparrow's immortality. But that plan had gotten shot to pieces during the maelstrom battle: Jones had mortally wounded Will and the monster had defied Jack to do anything to help the young man.

Even with the rum coursing through his body, Jack remembered this terrible moment vividly. The image of Will dying on the _Dutchman's_ deck was branded in his mind as forcefully as Lord Beckett's red-hot iron had branded the abhorred letter "P" on his forearm, years ago. Jones' evil deed had made Jack suddenly realize how much the kid meant to him. Will was much more than a noble-minded, righteous, unhealthy-streak-of-honesty-bearer young man caught in Jack's mishaps by a strange twist of fate. Will was…

…_The little brother that Jack had never had._

The look of horror on Jones' face, when Jack had helped Will to stab the monster's rotten heart! Victory had been theirs – but with a high price for the kid: killing Jones had saved Will, but it had also made him the new immortal Captain of the_ Flying Dutchman_. Consequently, Will had been forced to leave his beloved Elizabeth for a 10-year exile on the sea.

Jack never had the chance to say good-bye to the youngster he had gladly sacrificed his dream to save his life. Soon afterwards, the pirate had lost the _Black Pearl_ and his crew to Hector Barbossa and he had to leave Tortuga aboard a miserable dinghy, hardly an embarkation worthy of the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow.

A new bottle of rum was emptied within minutes. Jack loudly belched and looked up: the sun had disappeared behind the horizon. Venus was already sparkling in the western sky, the herald of many more stars and planets to come enchanting the Heavens with their luminous and distant beauty.

Jack suddenly got on his feet, making the dinghy pitching dangerously on the water. He raised his arm and pointed his index finger toward the west.

"Bring me that horizon!" he yelled. "All hands on deck! Lift the skin up! Haul those sheets, men! Movement, I want movement! And bring me that star while you're at it! On the double!"

No one answered his orders.

Jack sighed and heavily sat back down on the dinghy's bench. It was going to be a long night!

TBC……….


	2. Shoot the moon!

**Disclaimer**: the same as chapter 1

**Author's notes:**

- The _"Hoist the colors"_ song is composed by Hans Zimmer

- The misspelling of Jack's words is deliberate… remember, he's drunk!

- To Smithy: imagining Orlando Bloom on a bearskin rug and in front of a warm fire in the fireplace definitively turns the heat on!

**Chapter 2**

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The full moon was high up in the sky, its light illuminating the star-covered heavens and dancing on the undulating waves of the dark ocean, making its reflection multiply by a hundred. For centuries, people of various sorts had toyed with the idea of seeing "things" on the surface of the satellite. Poets had imagined monsters and marvels to explain its synchronous rotation, quarter phases and eclipses. Scientists had mistaken its shadowy meteor craters for mountains and seas. Children had seen a look-alike human face with a "stunned expression" enchanting the night sky. Right now, it was as if the celestial body was looking down in amazement at the agitated, lonely human aboard a dinghy lost in the ocean's immensity.

The unique passenger of the tiny boat had a surfeit of alcohol… and he was making as much noise as a hundred sailors in a flea-infested tavern after seeing naught but the sea for a year and a day!

"Yo-sho, yo-sho, a birate's life fur me…" sang Captain Jack Sparrow with a thick voice, but the song was constantly interrupted by hiccups. The pirate was staggering dangerously and one false move could send him overboard, but he was obviously too inebriated to worry about getting into an impromptu bath along with a potential drowning situation.

"We pillage, w-we plunder, we rifle and (hic!), drink up be hearties, yo sho. We k-k-kidnap and… and ravage and don't give a (burp!), drink up me beasties, yo sho…. ARRRRHHH! I HATE THIS SONG!" suddenly yelled Jack while drawing out his pistol from his belt. "Now where is dat stupid immortal monkey? I want to s-s-shoot something!"

Jack turned around in the dinghy, franticly looking for Barbossa's pet but much to his dismay, the primate was nowhere to be found. Then a souvenir came back to Jack's drunken mind: the monkey was always perched on its master's shoulder, and Barbossa was currently commanding _The Black Pearl_, Jack's lost-then-regained-but-lost-again beloved ship.

"You're fleeing in terror, you flea-bag?" roared Jack while wielding his pistol in one hand and an empty rum bottle in the other. "Thash right, you'd better run! You and your traitorioush master, I'll pound you b-both to the ground (hic!), mark me words! You're nuthing but a good-for-nuthing, Barbossa! You'll get your s-share of marooned time on a godforsaken spit of land, I promish you! And no rum for ye!"

A wave suddenly lifted the dinghy from beneath and Jack lost his already compromised equilibrium. He found himself on his hands and knees, barely missing hitting his head against the mast. The pistol slipped from his grasp and it fell harmlessly on the keel's floor.

"Whoa! Tempest ahead! Mister Gibbs, secure those sails! Oh, thash right, you're not h-h-here, Mister Gibbs (burp!). A pity, yur a good man. Not as good as Will, but still a good man. I could ushe some help on this ship… Yo, ho, haul together, hoist the colors high," the pirate captain started singing, "Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die…"

Jack seated himself in a kneeling position to try to regain his bearings. He grabbed one of the discarded rum bottles but growled in disgust when he noticed the flagon had already been emptied.

"Never shall we die… Yeah, riiiight!" snickered Jack, a dangerous gleam shining in his obsidian-colored eyes.

"Well, I've got news fer you, mates (hic!). We **do** die, eshpecially when thash snake-sired Beckett ish around. That ne'er do-well cad, not even loved by his mommy and dad, he killed everyone asshociated with pirates… including children! Oh, he could brag all along about 'im be so high-and-mighty he could blackmail Jones and have his Kraken pet killed to prove hish point, it doeshn't erase the fact that technically (hic!), Beckett is a cold-hearted creepy crawlin' slug! Lasht I've 'eard, he had a 12-year-old hanged because the kid had served as a cabin boy on a pirate ship. Probably been shanghaied into service, the poor lad, but thash didn't stop polished-clean, Easht India Company boot-licking Beckett from murdering him. **Baby-killer!**" spat Jack while tossing the empty bottle into the air before it sank in its watery grave.

The pirate captain fell silent for a few minutes, and then he noticed the full moon slowly rising towards its zenith. The satellite was just above his head and in his delirium state Captain Jack Sparrow was actually seeing a pallid human skull grinning at him in all its glowing whiteness, just like the one shown on the Jolly Roger flags.

"Whatchoo lookin' at?" growled Jack morosely while glaring at the moon. "Hant'ya ever saw Capt'n Jack (hic!) Sparrow before? Huh? Huh?"

Jack grabbed his firearm back and abruptly got up on his feet, once again at the risk of capsizing his own boat. He tried to take aim at the full moon, even if the rum was making him cross-eyed, and yelled: **"ARE YA GOING TO SAY YOU'VE NEVER HEARD OF CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW BEFORE?!"**

Jack fired his pistol at the Earth's eternal companion with an explosion of sparks along with a thunderous sound, but the recoil of the gun was too much to endure for his wobbly legs. The former captain of the _Black Pearl_ got thrown backwards and his head smacked hard against the wood of the dinghy's mast. The smoking pistol, once again, fell on the keel's floor.

"**OUCH**! Direct hit at (hic!) at the stern! Rebellion! Mutiny! Treason!" vociferated Jack. His awkward movements got him entangled in his own baldric when he tried to draw out his sword to fight phantom mutineers. He pulled at his weapon again but this time, his hand got caught in his belt's sash and it reminded him of the most horrible moment of his life: Beckett immobilizing his right arm to brand him like a helpless calf with that horrible P-shaped iron.

"BECKETT!" yelled Jack in a panic. "It's Beckett, mates! Run for yer lives! Abandon ship, just like Cotton's parrot used to say! (hic!) No, I've changed my mind: prepare a boarding party, lads! Fire!"

Jack struggled even more to free his hand but the alcohol, on top of making him clumsy, was also twisting his mind. He got persuaded his sash had become manacles and chains and the more he fought, the more he got entangled in the cloth. Jack heavily sat down on one of the dinghy's benches and when he looked up at the moon again, his eyes played a trick on him again: the grinning human skull had changed into Lord Beckett's pallid, laughing face, complete with wig!

"You cannot (hic!), I meant you cannot keep C-Captain Jack Sparrow in chains, Beckett! Not in jail, and not even in Davy Jonshes' Locker! Too witty for ye, I am, savvy? (hic!). Fire, mates! FIRE FROM ALL PIECES!" roared the pirate in the silence of the night.

Jack's hand finally got out of the sash; he draw out his sword, pointing it to the full moon: under the influence of alcohol, he was persuaded to be back on the _Black Pearl_'s deck, its powerful cannons firing at the _Endeavour_ and blowing it to pieces. The abhorred enemy ship was trapped between the _Black Peal_ and the _Flying Dutchman_ and the two most notorious pirate captains of the Caribbean, Jack Sparrow and Will Turner, were firing a full broadside, destroying the East India Trading Company's pride and joy along with its overzealous representative!

"ARRRHHH! Raise the skull and crossbones, mates! (hic!) Let's show to that p-p-piece of sea refuse what 'appens to Crown-clowns who think they can vanquish the best rogues who have ever sailed on God's green ocean! Alas, Lord Cutter Bayonet from the E-E-East India Butchering Company, or whatever the Hell ye are, you will remember this as the day you _almost_ caught Captain Jack Sparrow and 'is best friend, Will Turner! (hic!) Yoo hoooo!"

Jack laughed out of joy at the souvenir of the destroyed _Endeavour_ and the rest of the enemy's armada fleeing the battle; he climbed on the dinghy's side railing, once again ignoring the danger of falling into the ocean, while flourishing his sword in the air like a maniac:

"Mr. Gibbs! We have our heading. Sail s-straight at the _Endeavour_ and reduce it to a pile of toothpicks! FIRE! FIRE AT WILL!"

An expression of horror suddenly appeared on the pirate captain's face, making him fall back until his head slammed against the dinghy's mast again. All his drunken panache melted away when his rum-powered imagination wrongly led him to think he had ordered his crew to attack the _Flying Dutchman_.

"**NO!** Don't fire at Will! He's my (hic!) my best friend! GENTS! D-DON'T SHOOT WILL! HE'S MY BEST MATE!"

Snickers caught Captain Jack Sparrow's attention: he spun around as best as he could to discover Hector Barbossa, the upper part of his body nonchalantly leaning on the dinghy's prow while the rest was underwater. Jack's former First Mate was munching on an apple and an ironic glare was shining in his blue eyes!

"Barbossa!" screamed Jack at the hallucination. "Whatcha doing here? You will c-c-crawl back to (hic!) yer rat's nest or I'll skewer ye!"

"Will Turner, your best friend?" asked Barbossa in a mouthful of apple, without bothering to notice Jack's threats. "Since when?"

"Whatchoo mean, since when?" snarled Jack. "From the day he got m-m-me out of jail at Port Royal, you moron!"

"Cut the lies, Jack. You've never considered the young Turner as your friend. He was barely a mean to an end to you, first to lift the Aztec gold's curse, then to get the Kraken and Davy Jones off your back. Otherwise, you never cared for that kid. Nor did you bothered about saving his father!"

"Don't you ever mention Bootstrap Bill (hic!). You're the one who had sent that good man to his doom, strapped to a cannon and thrown overboard to be crushed by the ocean's weight. You damn well (hic!) knew Bill couldn't die thanks to the curse, so you deli-deliberately sentenced him to an eternity of torment! You'd better not talk about loyalty, you backs-s-stabbing traitor!"

"Aye, well I never pretended to be Bootstrap's friend, or his son's," shot Barbossa back spitting his apple score inside the dinghy. "I've never feigned comradeship with anyone, just to turn my back and run away like a scared rabbit!"

"How 'bout a scared **monkey**?" yelled Jack. He swung his sword at Barbossa but the apparition dissolved under his blade like smoke in the wind. Within seconds, his former First Mate had disappeared, along with his accusations and the remains of his favourite food.

Jack had barely the time to wrap his drunken mind around what had happened: he heard another laugh just behind him and he turned to see who the other intruder was. A distressed moan escaped from his lips when he realized his next visitor was Davy Jones himself, comfortably seated on the dinghy's stern bench, but Jack quickly regained his inebriated wits to say:

"Well, if it isn't Davy Jones "in poison"!" What do I owe (hic!) the honor of your c-c-c-company, you slimy git?"

"Manners, Sparrow!" hissed the disgraced Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_. "Not so long ago, you begged me to raise your precious ship from the depths, and you weren't so cocky! In fact, your ramblings and explanations were pitiful; only when you've agreed to serve for a hundred years before the mast did I accept to pull out the _Black Pearl _from the bottom of the ocean."

Jones chuckled evilly, before taking out his whalebone-carved pipe from his coat's pocket and lightening it, his eyes never leaving Jack Sparrow swaggering dangerously on the dinghy.

"No, you weren't very proud at the time, Sparrow. Young master Turner, now… He was different. He endured every kind of torment aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ but I couldn't manage to break him, not even when I ordered his own father to whip him! Bravery and noblesse of mind kept that boy's backbone straight… unlike you, the self-proclaimed Captain Sparrow who had betrayed him. And you call yourself the friend of young Turner?" added Jones while puffing from the silver stem of his pipe.

"YES!" roared Jack. "I am Will's friend, you jellyfish-faced lump of mucus!"

"You don't fool me, Sparrow. I haven't forgotten how you've tricked that youngster to serve on my ship in your stead. Then after your stay in my Locker, you got that crazy idea in your head that you could take over my command and roam on the seas forever. You've convinced the boy to help you, out of his concern for his old man. Too bad your Big Witty Plan didn't include me thrusting a sword into the Turner boy's body, eh? I must say, I was surprised when you helped him stabbing my heart: I was certain you would press-gang the youngster into your new crew, after you've become commander of my ship!"

"I'D NEVER HAVE DONE THAT, YOU MISBEGOTTED SON OF AN OCTOPUS!" yelled Jack, charging at Jones with his sword held up in the air. But just like Barbossa, Jones' image disappeared like fog under the sun just before Jack's blade could strike him, and the former Captain of the _Black Pearl_ found himself alone aboard a rolling dinghy.

"I never wanted Will to be h-h-hurt during the battle," muttered Jack between gritted teeth. "No matter what they say (hic!), I am glad to have sacrificed my dreams of immortality to save his life."

"Oh, so it's the Altruistic Captain Jack Sparrow, now?" said a voice rising from the starboard's side of the dinghy.

With a heavy sigh, Jack turned around to see the late Lord Cutler Beckett quietly floating on the ocean's surface as if he didn't have a care or a worry in the world. Apparently, he was unaware that half of his face and skull were torn open, his powered wig a mess and his elegant outfit was covered in blood.

"Great, as if I d-d-didn't have enough unwanted guests aboard my ship for the night," griped Jack. "Get lost, Cutler, I don't (burp!) have time for the likes of ye right now!"

"Why, are you in a hurry to make a fool out of yourself again?" asked Beckett with a sarcastic voice, his eyes fixed on the pirate captain.

Jack swallowed his rage as much as his drunken state could allow him: the hated ghost of the East India Trading Company's governor in the Caribbean was floating too far from the dinghy, out of his sword's reach.

"Why don't ye make yerself useful for once and get eaten up (hic!) by s-sharks or sumthink?" asked Jack. "Then again, those poor b-b-beasts might die from violent diarrhea after gnawing at your rotten flesh!"

"You think you're funny, Sparrow?" shot back the hallucination. "At least I was an elegant man, a commander, ennobled by His Majesty the King himself, and rich enough to live the rest of my days in the lap of luxury. Have you looked yourself in a mirror lately? You look like a scarecrow lying in a gutter! But then, you don't have enough cash in your pocket to buy a mirror, do you?"

"So, I'm getting wardrobe advice from a child-killer. Well (hic!), it ain't worth a spit in the wind, Beckett. And here's for you: BLEAAARRGH!" said Jack making a face at his imagined nemesis.

"Oh, that's real mature, Sparrow! You know, I'll never understand why Turner was so loyal to you. When we've had tea together at the _Endeavour_, he was very convincing in his so-called treason and his willingness to lead us to Shipwreck Cove. Only before the battle did I learn from that imbecile Jones about his father being held hostage on the _Flying Dutchman_. And when the fight began, I saw how protective he was towards the Swann girl, that barnacle-incrusted big sailor, and even you. Turner was working hand-in-hand with you to destroy me, and he trusted you even if you tricked him more than once!"

"That's Will all right," chuckled Jack. "Fiercely loyal to the p-p-people he cares about. And thash includes me!"

"Who could be loyal to you? You're nothing but a loser!" snarled Beckett.

That was the ultimate insult. Jack grabbed an empty rum bottle and hurled it at the direction of the floating hallucination.

"**IF YOU DON'T GO BACK TO HELL WHERE YOU BELONG, I'M GONNA BREAK ALL YER ARMS!"** yelled the pirate captain at the top of his lungs. His movements nearly capsized the dinghy but Jack's guardian angel somehow had the tiny boat stabilized once again.

Jack's wasted state and agitation had taken their toll on him. A very small and sane part of his brains was telling him he would loose consciousness very soon. But Captain Sparrow couldn't leave a scene without provoking his enemies one last time; he had a reputation to think about! He squinted and thought he was seeing the ghostly forms of Barbossa, Jones and Beckett floating away from his embarkation.

"Hey, the three unwise men!" yelled Jack. "Ye know what? (burp!) You've all fell prey of the green-eyed monster! You've never had a brother in your life, someone you could really rely on, thash why ye are jealous of me! Barbossa, for all yer vanity, you cannot p-pretend that someone would risk everything to save yer neck from the gallows! Jones, you disgusting invertebrate, you t-though yerself all-powerful but your crew was very enthusiastic at the idea of getting a new Captain! As fer you (hic!), Beckett, yur money didn't protect yu from getting pulverized by yours truly and a former blacksmith. Not bad for a loser, eh?"

Jack shook his fist in the direction of the last figments of his imagination disappearing in the nocturnal ocean. He briefly calmed down to take a deep breath and then his stentorian voice rang out in the silence of the night, as violent as thundering cannon fire during a battle.

"I AM CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW, AND WILL TURNER IS MY BROTHER, AND PITY TO THE FOOL WHO FORGET THIS FACT!"

Jack's legs finally gave up on him, and he found himself sitting down in his dinghy. His throat was hurting from screaming for hours and the alcohol abuse, but he managed to croak out:

"Aw, to Hell with it. Will? I miss you. I miss my annoying, courageous and too honorable for his own good little brother."

Jack sadly turned his eyes to the heavens; at the same moment, a bright streak of light appeared in the sky, just above the mast of the dinghy. It was a meteor, crossing the heavens in a flash of brilliance and wonders before disappearing into the depths of the night.

"A shooting star? (hic!)," muttered Captain Jack Sparrow while remembering one of his rare pleasant childhood memories. "Make a wish, Jacky…"

The former captain of the _Black Pearl_ closed his eyes but before he could even voice one of his hopes, he fell backwards inside his boat in an ungraceful heap of arms and legs.

Hiccups slowed down, and then stopped to be replaced by loud snoring.

TBC…


	3. The Turners!

**Disclaimer**: same as chapter 1

**Author's notes: **

- Thank you to all who had taken the time to send reviews, you are so kind!

- This chapter contains references to one of my stories, _"Sealed with a kiss"._

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**Chapter 3**

Since Captain Jack Sparrow had collapsed into unconsciousness, the full moon had slowly reached its zenith in the nocturnal sky, shining in all the beauty of its brightness. Every time the ocean's waves would move the dinghy just below the satellite, the mast would be placed right under the moon and it would look like the image of an "i".

Vanquished by the rum and his heated arguments with his imagined enemies, Jack was completely unaware of his surroundings: even smocking cannons firing at close range could have awakened him. That's why he didn't move a muscle when a ship appeared at the horizon, sailed straight in his direction and then closed in alongside the dinghy. This ship was a huge vessel compared to Jack's tiny boat. It was an ornate Dutch fluyt which was entirely white in color, from the keel to the top of the masts, as if the ship had been made out of polished whalebones instead of wooden beams and planks. The sails were immaculate, looking like pure white silk. Its name, not so long ago, would strike terror in sailors' hearts and they would wake up at night screaming, or even pleading for their lives. Now, the vessel gave more an impression of sadness and compassion.

It was the _Flying Dutchman_. Its new Captain was a tall, lean youngster clad in a black shirt and pants, and a deep green bandana was tied around his head to keep his shoulder-length dark brown hair away from his chestnut-colored eyes. The puffy shirt was open, revealing a scarred chest and a leather cord necklace with three silver charms hanging from it. The young Captain, William Turner Jr., had handsome features and his world-weary gaze revealed wisdom beyond his years. He was calmly leaning on the helm's rail, towering over the snoring pirate who had managed to raise a deafening ruckus while being alone and so far out in open waters!

A tall, broad-shouldered sailor with long grey hair escaping from a knitted cap and wrapped in an oversized coat, the _Dutchman_'s First Mate, came up to the Captain and asked:

"Orders, Sir?"

"Bring the ship to, Mister Turner." answered the young man without taking his eyes off the crumpled form of Jack Sparrow.

The sailor, William Turner Sr. better known as "Bootstrap" Bill, looked undecided for an instant and then, he shouted the orders at the crew. The quartermaster repeated the commands to the sailors who immediately jumped into action. In the flurry of activity, none of them had noticed the First Mate hadn't moved from their Captain's side.

"What do you intend to do, Sir?" asked Bootstrap Bill.

"I'm going aboard Jack's dinghy. I won't be long," answered Will, his attention still fixed on the tiny boat.

Bootstrap Bill understood what his Captain – his beloved son – truly meant: since Will had taken the command of the _Flying Dutchman_ along with a 10-year-long soul-ferrying duty, he had also acquired the gift to "transport" himself, in a blink of an eye, on any embarkation the ship encountered on its route. The _Dutchman_ crewmembers used to be able to do the same under Davy Jones' tyranny, in order to attack vessels and slaughter sailors. But that supernatural talent had been lost to them the day they had regained their human forms.

Bill knew his child was going to use this uncanny ability to go aboard the dinghy. He hesitated again, and then asked in a low voice: "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

The subdued tone snapped Will out of his reverie. He turned to face his father and was astonished to see the older man was looking at him while shuffling on his feet, acting like he was embarrassed by his own thoughts but too respectful of hierarchy to dare expressing his opinion.

Will answered in a quiet tone: "You don't need my authorization to speak freely to me, not even on deck… _Papa_."

Bootstrap Bill's blue eyes lightened in joy, like every time his son called him by this term of endearment; but this time, his happiness was shortened by the concern he was feeling towards Will's next planned action.

"I worry about you going alone on that dinghy, son." whispered the older man. "I am not sure it's a good idea."

"Papa," answered Will in an equally discreet tone, "we cannot leave Jack in such a state. We have a duty to rescue every distressed soul floating on the ocean, and he is currently in dire need of help."

"He's dead **drunk**, son; that hardly qualifies him as the kind of person we usually ferry to the Other Side."

"Papa, I want to make sure Jack will be all right. He could be hurt, or even drown while unconscious. The racket he'd made could be heard from miles away. He's lucky a Royal Navy ship didn't come; its Captain could have taken advantage of his inebriated state to bring him back to Port Royal in chains, and have him hanged! I just can't leave him in such a situation of potential danger, even if he's too wasted to even realize we're here. Can you imagine us meeting his soul floating on the sea, and telling about the sad fate he had encountered when I could have prevented it? I'd never forgive myself if harm befalls him by my negligence. "

Bootstrap Bill turned his head to stare down at the frail-looking dinghy, and Will saw anger shining in the elder Turner's eyes. This reaction surprised him at first, but then the young man remembered that his father, a mild-mannered and honorable man, had a low tolerance level towards injustice and treason, and an ever lower consideration to those who committed them.

"Papa, what is bothering you?" asked Will softly.

Bill Turner shook his head as if to clear his mind, and muttered: "I'm sorry, son. I shouldn't annoy you with this…"

"Please, tell me."

The older man couldn't resist his son's quiet plea, but he also appreciated Will didn't use his rank to force him to speak his mind. Still keeping his voice low to avoid eavesdropping from the other sailors, he admitted the truth to his captain:

"It's just… I'm still angry after Jack for tricking you to go aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ so he could sell your soul to Davy Jones to settle his debt. He probably never worried about what kind of hardships you would suffer at Jones' hands and his crew of monsters, while he saved his skin from the Kraken to search for the Dead Man's Chest."

"Papa, Jack's treachery was indeed a bitter blow, but it brought something good: we were finally reunited, beating impossible odds to find each other and long years of separation. Also, remember that Jack has redeemed himself by saving my life at the maelstrom battle. Whatever has happened in the past, I still consider Jack a friend."

"I know that, my William. And I am also angry at myself for feeling this way. I know you don't harbor resentment against him, so why can't I do the same?"

The old sailor fell silent, suddenly ashamed that he couldn't be as generous as his diamond-soul William. He lowered his gaze and whispered: "I guess I cannot forget that he deliberately put you in danger. I wish I were as forgiving as you are, son of mine."

Silence followed the older man's words, and then Bootstrap Bill felt Will's hand slipping inside his and giving it a reassuring shake. Bill's coat sleeve hid the movement from prying eyes and for the briefest moment, the elder Turner wished he could hug Will right then and there, but it wouldn't suit the hierarchy imposed on the _Dutchman_'s deck. The Turners had been sailing together for months and they would talk for hours in the Great Cabin, catching up for lost time. For Bill, those conversations weren't only a mean to express the love he felt for his son; they were also a reminder of the oath he had sworn to protect Will from any kind of danger.

And danger could come from anywhere… Even from an irresponsible pirate who was completely drunk off his head! Bootstrap Bill hated the idea of being separated from Will, even for a moment, and he'd almost wish to be cursed again, so he could "transport" himself on the little boat as well.

Bill Turner looked up to see his son smiling at him and his heart melted at this sight: it was the "special smile", the one that his William reserved exclusively to him. Bill had seen it for the first time after he had expressed the wish to serve under his son's orders, and he would never forget that moment.

"It will be fine, Papa," whispered Will, touched by the sincere concern of his father for his safety, just before disappearing before Bootstrap's eyes. The elder Turner gave a jump at the sight of this phenomenon, but he quickly regained his wits and rushed to look over the helm's rail: Will had indeed "transported" himself into Jack's dinghy.

With the brilliant moonlight, Bill could clearly see his son hovering over the prone form of Jack Sparrow. Will's first action was to get rid of the remaining empty rum bottles cluttered inside the dinghy's keel. Then, he managed to get Jack in a semi-sitting position, using some burlap bags as pillows. A blanket was quickly spread over the former captain of the _Black Pearl_, in order to keep him warm but also to restrain Jack's movements and prevent him to fall overboard.

Will inspected the small closet under the dinghy's bench and he noted that Jack's supplies were painfully low: the only edibles were a bagful of peanuts and two miserable bananas. Obviously, Jack Sparrow had thought more about packing rum flagons than food!

"Mister Turner?" called Will out loud.

"Aye, Captain?" answered Bootstrap Bill immediately.

"Jack needs a few items: drinkable water, cheese, biscuits and bacon. Could you have it prepared and send it here?"

"Aye, Captain. At once."

Bill Turner left the helm to have his son's orders executed, and Will stayed at Jack's side, calmly considering the drunken man whose snoring sounded like a saw attacking a tree trunk. Then, Jack groaned in his sleep. The _Dutchman_'s captain wondered if the pirate was waking up but Jack just muttered: "Drink up, me hearties, yo ho…"

Will had a small smile hearing this refrain, remembering his dear Elizabeth singing it so many times, much to her father's dismay. But before nostalgia could cloud his eyes at the thought of his wife, Will heard Jack asking in his sleep: "Will? Izzat you?"

Worried that Jack could become agitated and struggle against his dreams, thus compromising the dinghy's balance, Will put his hand on the pirate's shoulder and squeezed it in a reassuring gesture.

"Yes, Jack, it's me. Hush, be calm; everything's fine."

"Where are ya, matey?"

Jack's eyes were rolling wildly under his closed eyelids, a sure indication that he was dreaming. Knowing that he had to keep the man calm before his father would send the supplies, Will spoke to the _Peal_'s former captain in soft tones while keeping his hand on his shoulder:

"I am right here, Jack. We're aboard your ship, sailing away, Sleep now, you'll be fine."

Jack quieted down and for a moment, Will was certain that his friend had returned to his dead-to-the-world state. He looked up at his ship and two sailors, under the supervision of Bootstrap Bill, were getting ready to throw a cloth-covered bundle overboard, in the direction of the dinghy: the supplies ordered by Will.

"We have the food you asked for," called out Bill Turner. "Are you ready to catch it, son… Sir?"

Will had a small smile at his father's slip of tongue, and he extended his arms up in the air. The throw was perfect, and Will deftly caught the heavy bundle to unwrapped it quickly: inside were two chunks of bacon, a package of waxed paper holding a crumbling goat cheese and biscuits held in a clean dishtowel. There was also a small basked tucked beneath the bacon that Will dug out to find, bless his father's heart, fresh eggs!

Will quickly put the food inside the dinghy's closet; at least his friend would not starve to death before reaching his destination! Another call from his father and Will looked up to see a keg of drinking water coming his way: too heavy to be thrown overboard, the two shipmates had tied it to a rope to haul it down. It hit the salty waters with a splash and, with the waves' movements, Will didn't have any trouble to guide it towards the dinghy, and then hoist it aboard just before untying the rope, which was quickly recovered by his men.

Satisfied that decent food and water were stocked in the small boat, and that its single occupant wasn't at risks to drown or to be injured, Will turned to get aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ but Jack grunted again in his sleep; this time, his words stopped Will on his tracks:

"Love ya, little brother…" muttered Jack Sparrow. "Brother Will… savvy?"

Will had a hard time to breathe again after hearing that drunken confession. When he looked back at Jack, he saw that his friend had gone into sleeping soundly, probably until the last drop of rum got out of his system. It was a pity Jack was too wasted, or Will could had woken him up to tell how much that scruffy-looking, crazy-thinking, roguish pirate captain meant to him as well! But the young Turner also knew deep in his being that soon enough, more lives would be lost at sea, meaning a harvest of souls to be ferried to the Other Side. He couldn't delay in his duties, especially since Davy Jones had neglected them for so long, leaving desperate souls floating on the ocean. Some of them had been waiting for years to finally reach peace…

Will made up his mind but, before leaving the dinghy, he decided to leave an extra item…

---------------------------

The _Flying Dutchman_ was sailing out on the open seas again, leaving Jack's dinghy behind. The sails were deployed in full to improve its speed, following the Captain's orders. Soon, the ship would disappear in the ocean's immensity, heading for another mission, another ferrying duty, until young William Turner's time as Master of the Seas would end and he'd be able to set foot on dry land, freed from the curse and finally reunited with his wife.

The sailors had regained their posts and they were attending their chores, but the Captain and his First Mate had stayed at the helm, watching from the ship's stern the dinghy getting smaller by the minute; it wouldn't be long before it vanished in the darkness.

Bootstrap Bill knew his son was sad for leaving Jack Sparrow behind, but the pirate's place wasn't on the _Flying Dutchman_. In fact, no one belonging to the Land of the Living could stay long aboard the ghost ship. Distressed souls of those who had died at sea were the only accepted passengers. The crewmembers had stayed to find redemption from their past actions, after their enslavement to Davy Jones had turned them into mindless monstrosities; but in time they would be freed, too, since Jones' horrid blackmail _"A hundred years of service before the mast, or death"_ had been abolished. The First Mate wanted nothing more but to serve under the Captain's orders to honor a debt of love he owned his son. But Will wasn't here by his own choice: terrible events had led him to gain the command of the _Flying Dutchman_, and he certainly could feel regrets at the sight of a part of his past floating away from him… even if that said part was a Captain Jack Sparrow passed out after indulging himself with too much rum!

Bill glanced at his child, who was leaning on the helm's rail with an impassive expression on his handsome face illuminated by the moonlight. But the elder Turner had become acquainted with his son's personality and he knew that, in spite of the calm attitude, Will was hurting. He opened his mouth in a try to console him but his words died within his throat after taking a second look at his son.

He had just realized that Will had left Jack… another present!

Bill's blue eyes widened in surprise, and then a smile lightened his face. He chuckled quietly and shook his head, flabbergasted by what he had just seen.

"Will?" asked Bootstrap Bill Turner in a low voice.

"Yes, Papa?" whispered Will.

The elder Turner was struggling to find his words; but finally, and even if he was speaking softly, his son perfectly heard him say:

"Can you do nothing wrong, my Little One?"

A sudden gush of wind blown over the _Flying Dutchman_, and Bill Turner's long coat floated in the air flag-like. The lengths of cloth were spread and flapped like a bird's wings, making an impromptu but welcome screen. At the same moment, Will hugged his father. Bootstrap Bill wrapped his arms protectively around his cherished son and Will nestled himself against the older man, as if he wanted to disappear into the concealing cocoon of his father's coat. The garment was large enough to hide this moment of pure affection and only the silvery-glowing moon witnessed it.

Bill tightened his embrace, keeping his William's head pressed against his chest, allowing the young Turner to enjoy what they called _"The Secret"_: whenever Will was suffering too much from his "heartless" state, Bill would let him listen to the rhythm of his life. That substitute heartbeat would help Will to bear the burden of his difficult exile at sea, and Bill was feeling truly blessed every time he hugged his son, his child, his angel who had braved unimaginable dangers to save him from Jones' private Hell.

As suddenly as it came, this gesture of love and comfort came to an end. Father and son released each other to return to their respective roles of First Mate and Captain once again, ready to do their duties. Will looked up at Bootstrap Bill with affectionate eyes, even though his voice was firm when he asked:

"On the wheel then, Mister Turner?"

Bill didn't miss the hint, and he answered in an audible voice: "Aye, Captain Turner."

"_Silly protocol in this situation, really"_,William Turner Sr. thought,_ "since my commanding officer is the person I love more than my life and yet, over the months, it had become a habit. The crewmembers understand why I use this respectful attitude on deck, with hierarchy to be maintained and all that, but they also wonder how I manage to keep it. Oh, Will, they cannot understand that I'd do anything for you. Of course, I'd rather call you my wonderful darling aloud, from sunrise to sunset, but that will have to wait… until the day you are finally released from your soul-ferrying duty."_

The _Flying Dutchman_ disappeared into the night.

TBC…


	4. The hangover!

**Author's notes:**

**-** I am sorry for the lack of updates, but office work got in the way... And who invented term papers, anyway? ;-) This is the last chapter, I hope you'll enjoy it.

- Very special thanks to Lisa for her kind words!

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**Chapter 4**

"This is the worst hangover I've ever had! BLEAH!!"

Captain Jack Sparrow was feeling as shaky as if he had sailed ten days through a hurricane in a row, even if the sun was high in the cloudless sky and the turquoise-colored Caribbean Sea was tranquil. His mouth was as dry as Lord Beckett's heart; his face was maculated with his kohl makeup; he had a tremendous headache, feeling like his brains wanted to vacate the premises of his skull; his breath was stinking like the Kraken's corpse decaying on the beach and, worst of it all, there wasn't a single flagon of rum left aboard the dinghy!

"Oooooh!" moaned Jack, scrunching his eyes against the blinding morning sunlight, "I won't touch another bottle anyway, not for the next ten years… no, ten days… no, three days! There, I've promised! Please, can someone stop the guy who's bashing me over the head with his sword, just for my sake?"

_Tin__k-clink!_

Jack plunged his hands into the sea and splashed salted water on his face, dreadlocks and neck, trying to clear his mind. He had abused the rum last night, which was much obvious, but for the life of him he couldn't understand why his body was so rebellious after another bout of self-indulgence. Jack was used to drink too much since he had done this during most of his adult life, but he had always shrugged off the aftereffects of alcohol, feeling young and bouncy while his drinking comrades dragged their hangover state all day – another exploit building the legend of Captain Jack Sparrow, the pirate captain who couldn't be vanquished by tempests, the law, or rum!

_Tin-tin__k-clink._

But this time, it was different: Jack was feeling miserable in both body and mind, and he would sell his soul to the Devil in exchange of some wood betony for his headache. He had even cursed his trademark cockiness when realizing he hadn't packed fresh fruits or edible food for his journey, wrongly thinking he would survive by fishing and drinking rum alone. Well, the rum was gone (as usual) and he wasn't in shape to fish. Besides, Jack remembered making quite a noise last night when fending off imaginary demons and foes, so the fishes were probably halfway round the world by now, scared off their wits!

Gosh, was he thirsty! Jack considered briefly trying to drink some of the ocean water, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Besides tasting horrible, the salt would make his mouth even dryer and it wouldn't help his dehydration at all!

_Clin__k-clink!_

And that damn metallic sound was increasing his headache, on top of everything! Jack has heard it since he had managed to open his eyes this morning, but he had been too busy with his hangover symptoms to investigate the origins of this noise. It sounded like a shackle banging against something, but Jack couldn't take care of it for the moment. Onslaughts of memories about the night before and the horrid dreams he had about Davy Jones, Beckett, the moon, the Black Pearl were making his head pounding like a drum!

Another splash of ocean water on his face and Jack shook his head violently, trying to clear his mind from the headache. Feeling lousy after a night of carouse was a new thing to him, and he sure didn't like it at all. His stomach was screaming for food and, even if Jack Sparrow preferred rum over anything else, he couldn't afford to be picky while in the middle of the ocean and being sick!

He turned around to reach the dinghy's small bench closet, getting ready for a poor breakfast of peanuts, but his feet got entangled with the discarded blanket lying in the small boat's floor: Jack fell down and found himself on his hands and knees once again, nearly hitting his head against a keg sitting innocently nearby the mast.

"**O-U-C-H**. I am getting **tired** of falling all over myself all the time!" growled the pirate captain while straightening his hat on his head. "I mean, this is not a dignified attitude for the great Captain Jack Sparrow, so I hereby declare: no clumsiness on my ship, or it's the brig for ye!"

Alternatively grumbling and cursing, Jack freed his feet from the blanket, which got thrown against the small barrel. Puzzled, Jack considered its wooden staves and iron hoops: where did that item came from? He could have sworn he had brought only flagons of rum aboard his ship, and not a whole keg! But with his parchment-like mouth, the pirate captain didn't care about such a detail. After all, loosing memories were part of a hangover's common symptom!

_Clin__k-clink!_

Panting, Jack tried to unseal the bung but his alcoholic motion sickness was making his fingers shaky. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. With a growl, Jack opened the door of the dinghy's closet and found a hatchet inside it. A swift swing from his arm and the top of the barrel got smashed in a hundred of wooden shards, making a hole large enough to reach the liquid. Another hasty rummage inside the closet produced a dusty terra-cotta mug and Jack grabbed it just before plunging his hand inside the barrel. He drank in long, greedy gulps from his cup, inwardly complimenting himself to have packed a keg of rum for his journey.

His obsidian-colored eyeballs almost popped out of their sockets and his stomach slammed against his throat after realizing that the god-sent liquid was not rum but…

"_**WATER?!!**_" coughed Jack out of surprise, nearly getting strangled from the shock, "This is… **WATER? **But how did I manage to mistake a barrel of water for a keg of rum?"

Stunned, the former Captain of the _Black Pearl_ stared at the keg, seriously considering he had lost his mind as well as his memories. Never, in his entire life, would he have made such a goof, not even completely drunk off his head! He pondered at that phenomenon while his stomach was struggling, as if it was unsure to recognize a liquid that it hadn't met in years.

"Am I getting old, then?" asked Jack out loud. "Already loosing my marbles? Nah! That was done years ago. Sunstroke, then? Nay, I still have my hat on. Maybe I have a problem with my eyes? I'll have to wear glasses? Captain Jack Sparrow doesn't need glasses! He has the eyes of a sparrow-hawk, the heart of a lion, he's swift like the wind and he's as artful as a box of monkeys – _ahem_ – so he doesn't need glasses on his natural-born handsome face to trick his enemies!"

_Tink-clink_

Still, the mysterious presence of a keg aboard his small boat was unnerving. Even if the water had done wonders to calm his thirst and, considering the cylindrical container's size, it was holding enough liquid to drink until the pirate captain reached his next destination, Jack was furiously racking his brains – as much as his headache would allow him – to find an explanation. Not that he was unfamiliar with the supernatural, but still! Whoever heard of a haunted dinghy?

_Clink__-clink._

That metallic sound was tinting again! Jack turned around as he wrongly thought one of the small closet's doors was making this noise every time it turned on its hinges. But another quick exam dissolved his suspicions: the sound didn't come from here. However, another thing caught his eyes: tucked inside the closet was a cloth-covered bundle which Jack hadn't noticed in his half-mad frenzy to find a hatchet and a mug to open the barrel and quench his thirst. Puzzled, he got the bundle out and opened it…

By all the treasures of the Caribbean! **FRESH FOOD!**

Three gobbled eggs, one piece of bacon and four cheese-covered biscuits later, Jack was feeling anew. This impromptu breakfast had hit the spot and his headache was receding a little. Another long drink washed down the food – Jack was even surprised at his rediscovery that plain water didn't taste bad, after all – and it was quickly followed by a hearty burp (_"Scuse me!_"), the sound of a stuffed and happy stomach!

In his joy to eat these newfound edibles, Jack had completely forgotten his questions about the apparition of food and drinkable water aboard his dinghy. He leaned against the mast, closed his eyes and started to relax under the morning sun, feeling amazed by his own cleverness: it seems to take initiatives that even **he** was unaware of!

_Tink-clink-cling!_

Aw, no, not that damned sound again! Jack groaned and tried to ignore it, but the jingling just wouldn't stop. Knowing that he couldn't have a peaceful nap with this annoying disturbance, the pirate captain sighed, opened his eyes and got on his feet to investigate its source. Whatever it may be, a shackle, a hook or even a coat button, it was going to pay a visit to Davy Jones in the depths of the ocean!

Jack got on his feet and his clearer-brains registered the sound coming from the mast, as if something metallic was banging against it. But as he got closer, he realized that it wasn't a loose shackle or a gooseneck. No, it was some items hanging from the boom by a leather cord and randomly hitting each other from the boat's rolling movement. Getting more and more intrigued, Jack reached out and retrieved the items off the boom, thus interrupting the clinking sound.

He looked at the objects lying in the palm of his hand and they appeared to be silver trinkets. One of the charms had a coral pearl set in the precious metal; another was round-shaped with a piece of ivory shaped like a shell; the last one was a flat medallion with interlaced designs that reminded the pirate captain of Celtic knots.

"Where in the world these baubles are coming from?" wondered Jack out loud. "I prefer beads to adorn my magnificent hair and goatee, or precious rings for my dexterous fingers, but I don't remember any of these and I've never worn anything that I haven't won or stolen – I mean, borrowed!"

Could it be a farewell present from Scarlett and Giselle? Nay, they had departed in less-than-friendly terms the day the pirate captain had left Tortuga. Or maybe it was a gift from Tia Dalma / Calypso, but Jack also dismissed that idea: as if the unpredictable Whirlpool Lady would be in any shape to remember one of her former lovers!

Jack intertwined the leather cord between his fingers before letting the silver trinkets drop from his hand. Their fall was stopped by the cord so the charms banged each other and made their jiggling sound again, shining under the sun. The former captain of the _Black Pearl_ realized that the cord was rather long and the baubles even looked familiar, as if he had seen them before…

Jack suddenly stopped breathing.

Oh, holy God, he remembered he had seen those trinkets…

… **HANGING FROM WILL'S NECK.**

Will's necklace; He was holding Will's necklace in his hand!

That was impossible, simply impossible! For a moment, Jack thought for sure he was hallucinating again.

And yet, his unbelieving eyes couldn't detach themselves from the trinkets. The souvenir of Will on the deck of the _Black Pearl_, sailing under a raging storm in search of the _Flying Dutchman_ after their visit to Tia Dalma's shack, came back with a vengeance in Jack's mind. In spite of the thunder and rain, Will had explained about buying this necklace at the Port Royal's market while on his way to officially ask Elizabeth to be his wife. It turned out to be a good-luck charm because Elizabeth had agreed and her father had raised no objections, and Will had worn this necklace ever since! But Jack, too concerned by his own safety at the time, had barely listened to the youngster's romantic explanations.

Much later, during their multiple adventures at sea and their fights against Beckett and Jones, Jack had noticed Will's appearance was getting more and more pirate-like: darker clothes, wine-colored shirt, a knife with a black-and-white handle strapped at his belt, a pierced left ear sporting a small gold ring… Yep, Bootstrap Bill's blood was revealing itself in his son. But even if Will had used more or less crafty means to free his father (probably from passing too much time with Jack Sparrow), the trinkets had remained faithfully attached around the kid's neck, even when his relationship with his fiancée was momentarily strained.

But Will had to sail aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ for ten years now, in company of his father and Davy Jones' former crew, dutifully ferrying lost souls to the Other Side. So how could it be possible his necklace was in the possession of a very puzzled Captain Sparrow?

Jack closed his fist on the leather cord and he grunted as realization slapped him in the face. The food, the keg of water, the silver charms… Gosh, had his legendary sharp wits melted under the abuse of rum?

_Will __had paid him a visit last night, while Jack was sleeping off his booze!_

Jack sprang on his feet so quickly he almost capsized his boat. Clutching the necklace in his fist, he yelled at the top of his lungs: "**WILL! WHERE ARE YA, MATE?"**

Even if a tiny sane part of his brains told Jack that he was crazy to yell in the emptiness of the open ocean, the pirate captain's eyes searched frantically around, scrutinizing every little wave in the hopes to find the _Flying Dutchman_ sailing on it. He roared even louder:

"**WILL!!! WHERE ARE YA? Answer me, dammit!**** WILL!"**

A strange mist was gathering inside Jack's eyes and he blinked furiously to clear them. For the first time of his life, he rued his rum self-indulgence which had made him miss a meeting with the young Turner. Whatever possessed him to get drunk while alone on a dinghy, anyway?

"WILL! Will?" called out Jack again, but his voice was decreasing in volume. It was hopeless and he knew it. Will had sailed away hours ago, leaving edibles testimonies of his generous nature along with a memento, and Jack sighed deeply.

He had a wonderful, loyalty-based friendship with Will Turner, and he had almost blown it away. And Will was a real true friend, the kind of person children instinctively turned to for protection, the knight in shining armor present in every maiden's dreams. If not for Will, Captain Sparrow's tar-covered body would be displayed for the eyes of passerbys, swaying at the end of a hangman's rope with a wooden sign reading _"Pirates, ye be warned"_! But Jack's cavalier attitude towards the kid had gravely compromised their blooming friendship, culminating when he had sold Will's freedom to Davy Jones out of fear of the Kraken.

Jack sat down heavily, considering the silver trinkets in his hand.

"Aw, Will… Baby bro, why did you give me this?" muttered Jack to himself. "I should be the last person in God's green Earth who should receive this; I know damn well how much that necklace means to ye!"

But the young Turner had indeed left this present to the pirate captain. Now, what was he going to do with it?

Jack's eyes flashed in anger while remembering pure-hearted William forced to sail away from his beloved Elizabeth after the maelstrom battle, to perform duties he had never signed up for. Will, the only untainted soul the _Black Pearl_ had ever welcomed aboard, so badly rewarded for his unselfishness and his determination to save his estranged father! The souvenir of this injustice was making Jack's blood boil, and for a moment he considered calling for Calypso to ask for Davy Jones' body so he could kill him a second time.

"Nah, that's plain futility" grumbled Jack. "Dead the beast, dead its venom, I won't waste another moment of my precious attention with that jellyfish-lookalike slimy git. Concentrate on the present time, Jacky. What do I want most? The Fountain of Youth, that's for sure. Another treasure worth of Captain Jack Sparrow! But what do I also want? Will and Elizabeth happy together even if I cannot do anything to break that absurd 10-year long curse, I doubt Tia Dalma would listen to me… Heck, I don't even know where to find her, now she got her oceanic body back!"

The pirate closed his fist on Will's necklace and pondered in silence for a few moments, looking moodily at the waves as if he was disappointed that Tia Dalma's face wouldn't appear in them. Then an idea popped in his mind! With a huge smile making his gold and silver teeth flash wildly under the sun, he got up on his feet and yelled like a moon-mad dog.

"YEEESSSS!!!" shouted Jack. "I'M A GENIUS! The most brilliant mind of the Caribbean! Captain Jack Sparrow, you're a legend, a walking brain, the eighth wonder of the world! Oh, I am so clever, intelligent, bright, smart, take your pick ladies and gentlemen! Bow at the power of my intellect, all ye crawling and swimming creatures of the sea! I am the best pirate who had ever sailed on the Seven Seas! WHOOOO-HOOOOO!"

Out of joy, he did a somersault and nearly landed in the water, smacking his bottom on the boat's bench and making the dinghy's keel rolling dangerously. The boom had brushed his head but Jack couldn't possibly care about the danger of being knocked down, too happy he was with his idea. He looked at the horizon, grinning from ear to ear like a cat that just had eaten a whole bowl of cream behind his mistress' back.

"Will, mate, one thing ye have to learn about Captain Jack Sparrow, he isn't petty," said Jack. "Nossir, not at all. What kind of man would I be if I didn't give my little brother and his bonnie lass a wedding present? It will be a bit belated, fer sure, but you'll love it. Ya gave me a keg of drinking water, mate, and for the first time o' my life I will pay this debt in full with my extraordinary wedding present, my mind-blowing gift to ye, my incredible offering… **a barrel of water from the Fountain of Youth!**"

Oh, the look on the Turners' faces when Jack will give them his present! The water from the Fountain of Youth will erase their awful separation, giving Will and Lizzie a chance to live ten more years in replacement of those sacrificed by Jones' actions and his ill-fated love for Calypso. The Turners would make up for lost times and live happily after ever, thank to Captain Jack Sparrow, the insanely intelligent pirate captain! Jack could already picture in his mind Elizabeth giving him a big kiss on the cheek for his troubles, Will's grateful eyes, and even Bootstrap Bill smiling at him. At long last, Jack would be freed of the guilt he had been feeling for months towards Will. Yes, Captain Sparrow repaid his debts tenfold to the extremely rare people who actually cared for him, true to his worldwide-spread legend!

Jack snatched his compass from his belt and opened the lid covered by a lapis-lazuli dome: as on cue, the disk turned like crazy for an instant, just before the fleur-de-lis needle abruptly stopped, pointing in the direction of the north-east.

That was the direction mentioned on Sao Feng's navigational charts to reach the Fountain of Youth.

Jack looked at Will's present clutched in his hand. A pirate never had a lot of worldly goods to his name – that was part of the profession – and the former Captain of the _Black Pearl_ was no exception to this rule. Over the years, only his weapons, the clothes on his back, his magical compass, his hat and the trinkets in his hair could be called his own, especially since he had lost his beloved ship for the second time! But now, after a visit from his little brother, Jack had another possession of sentimental value that he could hold dear.

He hanged the leather cord over his own neck and smiled at the silver trinkets displayed on his chest, half-hidden beneath his puffy torn white shirt.

"I'll give it back to ye with my wedding present, I swear to ye, mate!"

Jack sat back on the dinghy's bench and grabbed the rudder. His thirst was drenched, his belly was full, his spirits were high like a soaring eagle, it was time to continue his search for the Fountain of Youth and find it with all the panache of the notorious Captain Sparrow!

A dolphin suddenly jumped out the waves, on the starboard side of the dinghy, and dove into the salty water after making a graceful arc in the air.

Jack smiled at this display of animal elegance and agility.

"Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!"

THE END! ;-)


End file.
